The Ouachita telegraph. [volume] (Monroe, La.) 1865-1889, 1887-07-23
dent-there was never any hope.


weight to the suffering of the child
) slipping away from them. And then
he asked to be left alone with me, and
you all stole away and left me kneeling
on the floor beside his bed. You know
how strangely wise the dying some
times are I; how clear our sight be-
comes for all that we are leaving and
children, am told, are often prelerna-
turally wise. l knew that he was try
ing to think of something to comfort
me.
He did not seem to need any comfort
for himself; did not feel that must
speak to him-bid him farewell-he
did net need me, O, my God! my
child did not need me! only knelt
there in dry, fearless misery, reaching
out to him for all that he could give
to me before he went. He watched
me quietly, speaking as If he were
feeling his way-uot knowing quite
what to say.
! "Mamma-mamma must not
look so. You must not feel 80 about
it mamma. am not In any pain now
Mamma-mamma-don'tyo you remember
that you said it arouId be better for me
to die.."
o, Mary, was it any wonder that 1
shrieked ? In an instant was calm
again; calm to wave you back when
you hurried into the room, in terror
lest, If were not calm, you would not
leave me with him again; leave me
with him for those last precious mo-
ments--I could not tell how few-leave
me to blot out from his soul at any cost
those terrible words of mine. / cannot
tell you what I said to him; I do not
know; but think God tells US what to
say when we are suffering like that:
when little child that He loves needs
to be comforted. Aud all tho time l
was pouring out the wild words of love
to him, was battling in my soul for
his llte-for my child's life. 1 was
praying - praying g-praying-that he
might not die.
1t was too awful for a little child to
die efeeling that his mother ,ctt,.tetl lin,
to die. O, Mary, pity me! And then
beside--it was not wholly that. Now
that IT oil came back to me, knew
that wanted him to live to conquer
temptation. did not want 10 know
that he was safe; WANTED to know
that he was good. II he were to die
now, could never, never know-uever
| be sure-that he would have grown up
good man. Always there would be
the dOubt-perhaps he had that ter
ribte flaw in his nature.
| But if he lived, should know, and
l believed he would conquer. wan.
ted to h'eo,v that he could conquer. In
agony prayed, 80, God give him
tho chance :! Let him live! let him
| struggle! Give him to me little lon.
ger-not for the sweetness of it, dear
Lord, but for Thine honor and glory
Let me teach him-1et him Iive-O,
God let my boy live little longer "
But in all my agony, Mary. I never
prayed as il to a cruel, angry God who
was snatching my child from me no,
knew that it was Father who was
| reaching down from Heaven to take
my child into Infinite care and keen.
ing to save him from all sin and sor-
row and failure.
But I did not want Hal to be saved
| l wanted him to save himself. 1 was
not praying God not to be cruel was
praying Him not to be kind, not take
my boy out of temptation till knew
that he could conquer. But suddenly,
in all my agony, 1 heard Halls voice
breaking In upon my misery. He
spoke 80 softly, so wistfuiiy-hesitat-
ing aiways-watching my face, feeling
his way to my heart felt sure that
his feelings were not really hurt-that
he knew that I loved him-that he
must know that did not want him to
die.
"Mamma," he said, "mamma, you
say it was only once; that it was a lit
tie thing that l must not worry; that
it does not trouble you but, mamma,
l understand; l know that it is better
-mamma-" His voice grew softer,
slower. l could not think why he was
watching me so intently.
"Mamma, do you remember that
you left ten cents on the sdeboard yes
terday? 1t was such little, mamma"
He stopped suddenly. My heart
stood still. My soul was frozen, dumb.
did not suffer-l felt nothing. All
my misery, all my sorrow, all my
dread slipped from me.
lie hesitated-for the first time his
face grew tr0ubled--as If wondering
why he had failed to say what would
max me see that it was best. reached
out my arms and clasped him close
and then from my arms God took him.
But it was not this that l wanted to
tell you, Mary. Not even to make it
easier to bear by hearing you tell me
that / had perhaps been morbid about
it. 1 could not have told you, If this
were all but what i want you to know